The Ark
by reunion101
Summary: In the aftermath of the destruction of Delta Halo, Master Chief fights for Earth's salvation, while Johnson and the Arbiter search for the Ark. Need reviews!
1. Belly of the Beast

**Author's Note: **This story contains spoilers!

**Reviews:** Need more feedback! Some criticism here and there (i.e. aznricechink) really helps…

Hehe alacrity… snickers (inside joke)

**2103 hours, March 29, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) • Forerunner vessel, high-orbit, Earth.**

Spartan-117 eyed the weaponry he had managed to salvage from his last battle with the Flood. A couple grenades, a half-loaded shotgun, and a crimson plasma rifle, the signature armament of the Brutes. It would have to suffice for the moment. Above him, a light winked on, and a chrome door began to hiss open. John rolled to his feet, shotgun in hand.

An Engineer emerged slowly from the passage, its six eyes peering through the darkness. John knew the Savants were no real threats but he kept his weapon raised, his eyes following the creature's every move. A scaled tentacle reached out for his shotgun. The Spartan wasn't about to let the Covenant get their hands on Human technology, and unloaded a round into the creature's skull. It dropped dead, its color quickly draining from its body. John stepped over the lifeless carcass and continued on his way.

Voices reverberated throughout the next hallway. The volume of the high-pitched cackles steadily built until John's enhanced hearing could pick out two faint heartbeats. The chrome door hissed open yet again, and two bird-like creatures loped through the entrance. Both Jackals stopped suddenly as they witnessed the carcass of the Engineer and began to sniff the air, searching for traces of an intruder. Both creatures stopped abruptly, raising their shields in the direction of the Chief. The Jackals' silver plasma pistols began emanating an intense light.

John leveled his plasma rifle and opened fire, spewing plasma into the air. The shields of both Jackals flickered scarlet under the sustained fire, dispersing the intense heat. A wave of plasma scattered across one Jackal's shield, overloading the alien device, which flared and disbanded into the air. The alien uttered one last cry and fell dead. Gruesome burns were scattered across its body. John felt a scorching sledgehammer collide with his side, a plasma pistol on overcharge. The Spartan turned to face the threat, his armor's shield alarm blaring inside his helmet. The Chief's shields were down, and one additional hit of that caliber could kill him.

Instead of taking cover, John charged toward the Jackal, knowing the creatures were physically frail. He used his plasma rifle as a cudgel, bearing down all of his augmented strength down on the creature's skull. The Jackal slumped against the wall, its skull crushed from the force of the blow. The Master Chief paused for a moment, hoping his actions had not attracted any unwanted attention. Allowing his shields to recharge, John continued on his way, more cautiously this time.

John journeyed through the next passageway of the Forerunner ship, his mind focused on stopping the Covenant Prophet Truth and the rest of the Covenant armada from invading the Earth. As the Master Chief made his way to the end of the hall, he encountered an elevator. He instinctively touched one of the intricate symbols on the elevator's control panel, and checked both his weapons as the lift traveled upward. John felt a lurch in his stomach as the elevator came to a stop, and leveled his shotgun. The design of this portion of the ship was peculiar, sections of glass walls venting gas into upper levels of the ship.

The Master Chief observed a solitary Brute Captain as he turned the corner, its hands clutching the hilt of a Brute Shot. The Brute turned towards the direction of the Chief, its weapon raised. John dove behind some of the bizarre Covenant Architecture. He had faced Brutes before and knew they were dangerously adept in combat, whether at a distance or hand-to-hand. The Chief primed a plasma grenade and spun from his cover, prepared to through the grenade at the Brute from a distance.

John gasped in surprise as he found the Brute was within a meter of him, and about to bear down the blade of the Brute Shot upon his skull. John dropped his grenade and rapidly rolled to his side, the razor edge of the Brute's weapon missing him by mere inches. The grenade detonated at the Brute's feet, scorching the surrounding architecture. However, the Brute stood resolute, its fur seared a sickly black. It dropped its weapon and bounded toward the Chief with surprising quickness. John hoisted his shotgun and fired repeatedly while backing away. The armor piercing rounds aggravated the Brute more than harming it. John found himself backed up to one of the glass walls of the Forerunner room. He exasperatingly used the last rounds of his shotgun. Before he could reach for his second weapon, the Brute was upon him. Its full force crashed into John, draining his shields completely.

The Chief was pinned up onto the partially fractured glass. The Brute's hands were around his throat, its steel grip remaining tight even as the Chiefs enhanced strength pried at its hands. Blackness began to encompass his vision. He grabbed madly for the plasma rifle in his girdle. Realizing it wasn't there, he frantically considered all options of escape from the Brute's iron grip. John sputtered as he realized an idea. He made a fist and pounded furiously onto the glass behind him, shattering the already damaged Forerunner material. The Brute, caught off balance, released John, who almost tumbled into the vent of gas. John dove for his Brute plasma rifle, which had fallen when the Brute impacted with him. The creature reared and dashed toward the Chief. Its eyes were ablaze with anger.

John opened fire, impacting the Brute with several discharges of plasma, scorching its already burned body. The Brute finally howled a death cry and toppled to the ground. Its eyes weres till blood red and froth was still rising from its mouth. John coughed and tasted copper and blood in his mouth. He turned the pain aside. He had a mission to complete, and he would do everything in his power to stop Truth from reaching Earth.

Soon after the Master Chief regained his composure, he witnessed a shaft of light rocket past his head, not two inches from where he was standing. John quickly dashed for cover, diving behind a container that held Covenant armament. As he dove for cover, he felt an intense pain burn on the side of his neck, singing through the plating on his neck. The sniper had missed his mark narrowly twice. If the second blast from the Covenant beam rifle had been half an inch to the right, John might have become just another military casualty. Now he realized why Cortana had stopped calculating his odds of survival long ago.

John's makeshift cover rumbled as the Jackal sniper repeatedly fired suppression rounds into the side of the box John was crouching against. For the second time that minute, John found himself faced with death and few options. Out of the corner of his eye he witnessed a piece of broken Forerunner glass, two feet from where he was pinned down. His mind started to formulate an idea. John witnessed the bird-like outline of the sniper through the reflection in the glass, and wondered if the Jackal's reflexes were fast enough to fire at his arm if he made a grab for the Forerunner material. He hesitated, speculating if there were other methods of survival he could use, but it was decided; he would make his plan work.

The Chief made a lightning quick grab at the glass, his amplified speed and reflexes enhanced tenfold by his concentration in this life or death matter. The Jackal fired a shot as the Master Chief grasped the piece of glass, missing the Chief's hand by no more than a few inches. Clenching the glass in his hand, he raised it above the weapons container, hoping the reflection of the Forerunner light would blind the Jackal. His plan was successful, as the creature stood stunned by the intense light.

At that split-second John spun from his cover and streaked plasma into the air. The Jackal screamed in anguish as several bands of plasma crashed into its skin. The creature collapsed lifelessly onto the ground, its body still radiating lines of heat. John stepped over the Jackal's body and grasped its beam rifle, hoping it would come in handy.

The Chief made his way through the passage, coming upon only Engineers as further opposition. The next door was password protected. It seemed to be made of an unknown material, impervious to any weapon John had on hand. He tried a variety of random guesses before giving up and choosing to follow a different path. Before he could do that, the gateway hissed open, releasing six Brutes and two Jackals. John, not favoring his odds in a head-to-head confrontation, choose to hide behind a container of plasma grenades located in the corner of the room. He held his breath once again, and made sure he was as motionless as possible. As the enemies past, a Jackal stopped to sniff the air. It uttered a phrase in its bird-like language and the six Brutes started to investigate the surrounding area. The blast door slowly began to seal once again. It was now or never.

John made a mad dash to the next room, nearly brushing against the fur of two Brutes. The Brutes turned and opened fire, filling the air with bright streaks of plasma. The Chief's shields were drained almost instantly. A Brute and a Jackal followed him through the blast door, leaving the rest of the aliens behind. The Chief turned and aimed a blow at the Jackal's chest. The Jackal doubled over as its ribs cracked, producing a sickening sound.

As the Brute opened fire with its plasma rifle, the Chief used the broken body of the Jackal as a makeshift shield. The grisly stench of burnt skin filled the air as plasma impacted with the Jackal's corpse. The Brute's weapon began to blaze bright red as it overheated, dumping its plasma overcharge. The Master Chief took advantage of the momentary lapse in fire and tossed the Jackal's carcass aside. He leveled his beam rifle, aiming for the Brute's head. The first shot impacted the Brute's head plate, knocking it to the ground. The second tore through the Brute's skull. Blood surged from the wounds in the front and back of the Brute's head, staining the surrounding area with the Brute's blood. The Chief took a moment to check both of his weapons and continued on his way.

An alarm began to blare through the ancient ship, signaling the Chiefs presence. The Covenant knew he was there. John heard a hiss as some of the surrounding doors locked. The Covenant had heightened their level of security. They weren't going to make it easy for John to succeed in his goal. The Master Chief surveyed the room he was in. There were two doors, both of which were locked. He noticed a vent in the side of the room, probably a maintenance or electrical duct. John stooped down to observe if he could fit into the minuscule shaft. It would be a tight fit, but it would work.

John made his way through the bowels of the Forerunner ship pausing periodically to activate his flashlight. After traveling for a few minutes, John came to the end of the shaft. He flickered on his flashlight, and the end of the path he upon a strange infestation growing on the sides of the subsystem. The infestation seemed organic, but it was growing out of the sides of the ship. He had seen this before. He had seen it on High Charity. The Flood...


	2. Delta Halo

**Unknown time and dateExtract of Sanctioned Sangheili Eavesdrop •For the Attention of Jiralhanae Military Adjunct Ambassador.**

"_I wonder about the Humans, Commander. Their technology is limited, but some of it is useful and their battle techniques are impressive. They are excellent strategists. But what II ask is this: Why have we not offered them the absolution of the Covenant? From the beginning of this war, the Prophets have made no attempt to absorb them or even offer the option of honorable submission. Why?"_

"_Perhaps they fear them? We do not know where their homeworld is. Their pattern of retreat is either hopelessly random, or brilliantly conceived. What if the Humans have more power, more numbers than we suspect? What if they lead us to a trap?"_

"_No. I do not think that is the reasoning. They continue to lose territory, and pattern or no pattern, these defenses must be part of a perimeter. I suspect we are forcing them into a tighter arena than to care to fight in – soon we may be able to use the Sharquoi. And their victories, however few, always rely on the same thing – strategy, brute force or luck. No. The only secret they hold is the location of their homeworld."_

"_What about the atrocity at Halo? That was not luck, nor brute force. The Demon is a mystery. He outwitted and outfought entire legions on Halo. Perhaps there are more like him?"_

"_I do not believe that. We have seen their kind before and destroyed them. Their numbers have dwindled and there have been no reported sightings since our victory at Reach."_

"_Then why do we continue to hunt them? When surely they merit consideration to accept and embrace the Covenant?"_

"_Let us discuss this at a more prudent moment."_

_(A Jiralhanae approaches)_

**1228 hours, March 29, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) •Control Room, Delta Halo.**

"_Then where…where would someone go to activate the other rings?"_

"_Why, the Ark, of course."_

"_And where, Oracle, is that?"_

"The location," he replied, "is unknown. There appears to be no information located in the ring's databanks."

Johnson's hand grasped the trigger of his beam rifle. "Listen you little light bulb, you're gonna tell us where the damn Ark is and what its purpose is."

"The Ark is a control room, similar to the one on Installation 04. It can remotely activate all of the rings. The precise position of where it is located, as I have clearly stated before, is unknown."

"Very well," The Arbiter responded. "We must find the location of the Ark." The Arbiter gave a fleeting look to the broken bodies of his brethren. Victory was theirs, but it had been purchased at a high cost.

Commander Miranda Keyes interrupted. "How, I must ask, are we going to do that?"

The unlikely quartet stood hushed. It was Guilty Spark who broke the silence. "There is an archive located on every ring." He alleged. "If Flood contamination is imminent and the ring shut down, a reclaimer could journey to the Archive to locate the site of the Ark."

"Where is this 'archive' located?" the Arbiter questioned.

"Approximately 959 kilometers southwest of this position," was the reply.

Sergeant Johnson recalled the speech he had given to men under his command on the _Pillar of Autumn_. "I don't care if it's a giant hula-hoop, or God's own, anti-son-of-a-bitch machine, we're not gonna let 'em have it!" His troops had fought bitterly for Halo, and now he was going to have to fight for every one of them.

"Well," the Sergeant barked, "we'd better get moving."

The foursome journeyed to the exterior of the ring's activation system, to be greeted by the Special Operations Commander, Mol 'Nolomee. The Elite was clad in his usual white ceremonial armor. He eyed the human distrustfully.

"Arbiter! You have defeated the Brutes?"

"Yes," The Arbiter answered. "Tartarus and his minions have been defeated."

The Spec Ops Commander noticed the grief in the Arbiter's face. "This is a great victory is it not? We should rejoice."

The Arbiter clicked his lower mandibles together, the Sangheili equivalent of a sigh. "This is a time for action. We must find the location of 'the Ark' to stop the activation of the rings."

"Then let us not waste time with empty words," 'Nolomee exclaimed. "We shall fight!"

"We still have one problem," Keyes whispered. "The _In Amber Clad._ If the Flood are able to repair the ship and launch into space, it would be a disaster."

"My Sentinels will handle the defense of this station," The Monitor hummed. ""The _In Amber Clad _will remain inoperational. I will make sure of it."

"And what of the humans," 'Nolomee murmured distrustfully.

"We are no longer a part of the Covenant," The Arbiter exclaimed. "The humans are now our allies."

"Shall be it," 'Nolomee answered. He glanced at Johnson and Keyes. If it meant winning the war, he would ally with the very creature he had been fighting for decades.

Johnson, Keyes, 'Nolomee, Guilty Spark, and the Arbiter boarded the Spec Ops Commander's Phantom. The Arbiter relayed information about the Ark to 'Nolomee, who agreed it was essential to stop the Prophet Truth from finding it. The Phantom touched down in a dank alcove, filled with lush vegetation. The unlikely group departed from the Phantom, searching for traces of an "Archive".

The Monitor chuckled. "You won't find the Archive by searching now. Let me deactivate the ring's security systems."

A bronze doorway shimmered into view, like a mirage in the desert. The gate began to creep open, leading to a subterranean portion of the ring. Howls of anguish seemed to emanate from within the chamber.

"I ain't afraid of no alien scumbag," Johnson said, pounding his chest. "Last time I was with the Flood, they just passed me up." The Sergeant had a rare syndrome, caused by severe exposure to plasma. He kept on muttering about "war medals" and "kicking alien ass" as he led the way. The hall progressively darkened until there was nothing but the Monitor's faint glow to lead the way. They witnessed Sentinel wreckages on their journey, until they came upon a sealed gate.

"I will deactivate the seal on this door," The Monitor said, floating away through a small passage near the side of the door. "I'm a genius."

The rest of the group stood on guard, waiting for the Monitor to return. A silver structure floated out through the passage.

"About time you got back tinkerbell," The Sergeant growled. Did you open the-"Johnson stood in surprise as the construct shot out a bright streak of light. 'Nolomee dashed in front of Johnson, shielding him from the streak of hellish light. His shields flickered vividly as they absorbed the brunt of the attack. The Spec Ops Commander drew two plasma rifles and fired a hail of light into the air, sending the Sentinel crashing to the ground.

"Human," 'Nolomee muttered.

"Yeah? Next time it will be your ass getting fried," Johnson said angrily. "Besides, we stopped your ape of a friend from activating Delta Halo. So we're even."

The Spec Ops Commander had no time to respond, as four more Sentinels entered the room, this time protected by energy shielding. Johnson fired a trio of precise shots, bringing two of the machines to the ground. The Arbiter drew his energy sword and slashed at the remaining Sentinels, destroying them and scattering their remains across the room.

The Monitor returned from the passageway, still humming. "The door has been unsealed," He claimed. The door hissed open, revealing only more darkness.

"Oracle, why are these machines attacking us? They are allied to you are they not?" the Arbiter questioned.

"Why yes, but the Sentinels of this facility are controlled by another monitor, 2401 Penitent Tangent. There is no way to stop the Sentinels from attacking, as they are designed to attack all who journey to the Archive."

"Very well," The Arbiter said, clenching his carbine more tightly. They would have to journey more vigilantly.

The group continued through the darkened hall until they came upon a massive room with a great chasm in the center of it. A colossal machine rose up from the abyss, an energy shield protecting its figure.

"An Enforcer!" 'Nolomee shouted. The Sentinel Major's two weapon systems came online. Crimson needles began discharging from the Enforcer's weapons, streaking towards the group.

"Scatter!" Johnson yelled. The scarlet needles impacted off Forerunner architecture, dispersing throughout the room. Keyes fired her dual sub-machine-guns, which deflected of the Enforcer's energy shield harmlessly. The Arbiter drew his Covenant carbine and fired at the Sentinel Major's shield repeatedly, overloading half of its two-sided shield, leaving it partially exposed.

Sentinels began to enter the room, filling the air with hellish light. Johnson's beam rifle tore through Sentinel Major's side, leaving an explosion in its wake. The Enforcer, tilted to its side, off-balance. The Arbiter made use of the opportunity to race towards the Enforcer and attach two plasma grenades on its underside. The Sentinel Major powered up its second weapon system just as the two grenades exploded, detonating on the Enforcer's propulsion drive. The machine stuttered and fell back into the abyss, leaving a trail of sparks and debris in its wake.

Johnson felt a scorching pain collide with his side. He shrugged it off, knowing he had been through far worse. The Sergeant turned and fired into the heart of the Sentinel swarm, bringing down three. One falling Sentinel collided with another, ensuing an explosion that brought down three more. Keyes turned and fired her SMGs into the group, creating a flurry of sparks and static as the remaining Sentinels were destroyed.

Johnson crouched down on one knee, clutching his side.

"Human," The Arbiter questioned. "Can you fight?"

"I'm good," The Sergeant answered, clenching his teeth. 'Nolomee punched one of the keys on a panel near the void. An energy bridge formed over the bottomless chasm.

"Don't look down," Johnson advised Keyes. The group crossed over to the other side of the bridge.

"The next door will lead to the center of the Archive," The Monitor said in its usual monotone voice. "I will leave to unseal the door."

"Oh hell no," the Sergeant barked. "Last time you left us, we were attacked by a bunch of those flying things. I'd rather not have it happen again."

"The only way to unseal the door is for me to journey to the subsystems of the archive and unlock the door," The Monitor insisted.

"Alright," Johnson said, walking towards the sealed door with a slight limp. Guilty Spark left through a slender passageway leaving the group shrouded in darkness once again.

Johnson witnessed a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He raised his weapon, cautiously approaching the site of movement. A faint rustle reached the Sergeant's hearing from his left.

"Arbiter!" Johnson whispered. "Over here." All of a sudden the shadow leapt out at him. The creature howled and lashed at Johnson's face. Johnson ducked, the appendage of the creature missing him by only a few inches. The Arbiter opened fire with his carbine, hitting the life form straight in the chest. The Monitor returned, and in its bright blue glow the Arbiter could perceive what the creature was. It was not a Flood, nor a Sentinel. It was a Heretic.


	3. Heretic

**0113 hours, March 30, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) • Forerunner vessel, high-orbit, Earth.**

The Master Chief clenched his fist at the realization of his recent discovery. Even if Earth's defenses managed to stop the Covenant onslaught, if the Flood managed to find a way to Earth's surface... John shuddered in thought of the outcome. He began crawling through the Flood-infested portion of the ship, feeling unsafe even as his body was protected by multi-layered MJOLNIR armor. As with all Spartans, he was most comfortable fighting with solid ground under his feet.

After creeping through the subsystems of the Forerunner ship for nearly an hour, John saw a light filtering through a duct in the tunnel. His eyes and visor began to adjust to light once again.

The Chief kicked open the panel and crawled into open space. An explosion rocked the side of the alien spacecraft, sending John spiraling to his side. The battle for Earth had begun. In the next room, several Engineers rushed to repair the damage that had been sustained from one of Earth's Magnetic Accelerator Cannons. Fires erupted from the Forerunner ship's control systems as debris was hurled into outer space.

A trio of Jackals stood in the corner of the room, giving the Engineers orders. John primed a grenade and flung it into the center of the group, sending two Jackals to their death. The remaining one ran within its ranks, taking cover behind a Covenant weapons crate. A burst of plasma finally silenced the unruly creature.

Four Brutes marched into the Forerunner room to inspect the damage caused by the MAC gun. A Brute turned and opened fire with its Brute shot, sending lethal grenades into the air. The Chief rolled to the side to evade the ensuing explosions, firing as he dodged. The Brutes answered with a barrage of plasma fire, draining John's shields down to a quarter. John clicked the activation switch on a plasma grenade and threw it into the center of the enemy group. A howl indicated that it had found its target. The grenade detonated, scattering debris over the room. Two bodies of Brutes were flung to the ground, lifeless. Of the two remaining Brutes, only one was battle ready, casting aside its weapons and charging towards the Chief. The other knelt down on one knee, shedding blood from a dozen different wounds.

The berserker Brute was almost upon John when another explosion threw it off balance. The Brute looked up from the ground, its face distorted with anger. Before it could regain its footing, a side of the Forerunner ship tore open, leaving a void in its midst. Wreckage was scattered everywhere, and debris was thrown into outer space. The mortally wounded Brute was hurled into outer space, howling one last cry. The other roared as the room depressurized. It grasped on to the Chief, clinging for its life. John grasped a control panel with one hand and drew his plasma rifle with the other. The Brute uttered a silent roar in the emptiness of vacuum. Plasma impacted his face and shoulders, sending it on the Great Journey prematurely.

John slowly crept towards the one of the exits of the room, careful not to lose his grip. One mistake and he would be flung into the void. Even with his oxygen-recycling suit, he would not last long in the harshness of space. The first exit was locked to prevent depressurization of other areas of the ship. The second door was damaged from the force of the explosion, and flew into outer space, narrowly missing the Chief. John slowly made his way through the hall until finally, the door locked behind him and the room was pressurized once again.

The Chief gasped for air inside his helmet. He wished Cortana was with him. She would have said something to make him forget about his weariness. John came upon a lift and punched the control panel, sending the elevator launching upward. Through a large glass section of the lift he was able to realize the magnitude of this battle.

John wondered where the shots had come from. Was the life of a Spartan an equal trade for that of the Prophet Truth? John's equipment intercepted a transmission came in from a UNCS ship, from Admiral Terrance Hood.

_Hold your fire. We've got the Chief on that ship! _

Static flared in John's headset.

_A Spartan? What's he doing there? All UNSC destroyers hold your fire!_

Ironically, one commander's mistake might have saved John's life. If humanity trusted the Chief's ability to stop Truth from reaching Earth, he would have to everything in his power to make sure that their trust was not misplaced. The Chief glanced out the window once more, his teeth gritted.

The fleet was enormous; ten times the size of the armada that had conquered Reach. The UNSC had many warships as well, pulling all their resources from the inner colonies to help defend their treasured homeworld. Even with Earth's orbital defenses, it would soon be overrun by the Covenant, glassed by alien warships. Most of the alien warships were Covenant cruisers, but some were different. They seemed to resemble a civilian transport craft, used to ferry men from one world to the next. John wondered if the Covenant were planning a massive ground assault of Earth.

John glanced out the window once more. The UNSC destroyer _Resolution _took a hit from a Covenant ship's plasma torpedo. Explosions took place along the bridge of the ship, reaching the fuel cells. The ship detonated in a fiery grave. John looked past the explosion of the ship, taking note of the men and women who had died fighting for humanity. Something wasn't right. Phantoms flew into the Earth's atmosphere, deploying troops.

_This happened on Reach too._ John thought. The Covenant did not fully glass Reach. Usually, they followed a crisscrossing pattern that started at the poles and ended at the equator, making sure every square centimeter was cleansed of life. They did not do this to Reach because there was a sacred artifact on it, the "Luminous Key", which was able to distort the properties of slip-space. Was there something on Earth sacred to the Covenant as well?

A howl echoed through the Forerunner ship, bringing John to his senses. The lift came to a stop soon after. The electrical systems of the vessel were malfunctioning due to damage, and lights flickered on and off throughout the next hallway. Another resounding scream reached John's ears, closer now. John reached an entrance to the next room. John crept through the entrance, and witnessed a crowd of seven or eight groups, all crowded around a creature. The life form was so distorted John could barely pick out that it had formerly been an Elite.

"Where are your allies?" the head of the Brute group questioned, holding an iron bar in his hands.

The Elite spoke very weakly. "Open your eyes. The Prophets deceive you."

The Brute pressed the bar to the Elite's chest, producing a strange hissing noise. Steam rose from the Elite's chest. The Elite screamed and thrashed in its restraints.

"Insert the serum," The Brute shouted. "We will quell this heresy, one way or another."

A needle was jabbed into the Elite's neck.

"Your sacrilege poses a threat to the Great Journey," The Brute snarled. "You will tell us the location of your brethren."

The Elite groaned, a thin trail of spittle running from its mouth.

"We will punish your dissident people. The Jiralhanae now rule the Covenant. Now speak!" The Brute roared.

"The Heretics... took camp on Basis. Traveled to one of the rings... hid from enemies. The Flood attacked... I am the only known survivor..." the Elite opened his mouth once more but managed to form no words.

The Brute roared and punched the Elite across the face. Blood gushed from the corner of its eye.

John inched closer to the interrogation. From this distance, he was able to see that the creature being questioned was no ordinary Elite. Its bronze armor shone in the dim light, and several prongs extended from its back. Gruesome burn marks crossed the Elite's chest.

"You Sangheili are worthless," The Brute snarled. "They alone are useless, but Heretics like you deserve a fate worse than death."

The Commander turned to leave, bringing his two bodyguards with him.

One of his guards whispered in his ear, "There is still the issue of the Demon,"

"The Demon? Let him come before us. He will be crushed just as the rest," The Commander answered, stomping the ground.

The three Brutes left, leaving odds that John could fare against effectively. After the door sealed, the Chief rose from his cover, using his beam rifle to score two precise shots with one Brute, crushing its skull. The Brutes turned and opened fire, draining John's shields to a third. He removed the pin from a fragmentation grenade and tossed it over his shoulder, landing at the feet of a Brute. The grenade exploded upward, bringing blood with it. The Brute shrieked and collapsed to the floor, a hole torn in his side.

The Chief ran from his cover, picking up a second plasma rifle on his way. John aimed the rifles at one Brute, knowing that three enemies and one dead were easier to deal with than four slightly wounded, not to mention pissed off opponents. The Brute took aim but had no time to fire as bolts of plasma crashed into his skin. The Brute stumbled towards the Chief in one last action, then fell to the ground.

A group of Jackals marched through the far door, joining the fray. They fell into formation in front of the Brutes, providing cover fire. John tossed a grenade in front of the Jackals, scattering their formation. Bursts of plasma silenced two of the Jackals. The rest fell from the Chief's concentrated fire. Both of John's plasma rifles began to overheat, dumping plasma discharge into the air. He threw one aside and threw another grenade into the group.

The aliens remained scattered and unorganized in the midst of the explosions. John took advantage of this, drawing his beam rifle and pulling off four precise shots. Two Brutes fell to the ground, spewing blood from wounds in their heads. John turned, searching for the final Brute. The last Brute emerged from his cover, rearing to its full seven-foot height.

John managed two shots from his beam rifle, ripping through the Brute's chest. The Brute paused briefly, its hand clutching its wounds. John grasped his beam rifle, ready to deliver the deathblow. He pulled the trigger, waiting for a fatal shot to tear through the Brute's body. Nothing happened. John checked the energy meter on his HUD. It read empty. He tossed the rifle aside and drew his plasma rifle. The Brute was upon him, smacking the weapon out of John's hand. The Brute raised his hand over his head, ready to crush the Spartan soldier.

The Brute suddenly howled in anger and fell to its knees, its face contorted in pain. John stared in disbelief, unable to understand what had happened. Behind the Brute's body, the tortured Elite lay dying, its hands clutched around the grip of a plasma rifle.

"Demon... "It said weakly. "I would rather die at the hands of a Human warrior than that of this hated race..." Blood rose from the Elite's mouth. The carbine dropped from its hands. John bid the Elite silent gratitude. He moved closer to inspect the creature, which was no regular Elite. The Brutes had mentioned Heretics. So some of the Covenant might have witnessed the truth. Before he could think any further, a voice called out.

"Demon," Another Heretic Elite lay in the corner of a detention cell, its chest also crisscrossed with marks from torture. "He is dead, isn't he..." The Elite said, gesturing towards the body of his brother.

"Yes..." John said cautiously.

"His passing will not go unnoticed," the Elite said, closing his eyes. "Demon, the Heretics have broken their ties to the Covenant long ago." The Heretic said, lifting a Brute plasma rifle. "I will fight along your side." The Heretic raised the weapon and took aim, John tracking his every move. The Heretic fired behind him, and a Jackal fell to the ground, its shield sparking and dispersing into the air.

"We must not let Truth reach the Ark," The Heretic kicked the carcass of the Jackal aside.

"What?" John said in disbelief. "What is the Ark?"

"The Ark," The Heretic answered, "is a place where all the Sacred Rings may be activated remotely. It is also your homeworld, Earth."


	4. The Fight for Earth

**0208 hours, March 30, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) • Archive, Delta Halo.**

The Arbiter gazed at the creature clad in bronze armor. It lay panting on the ground, bleeding from its chest.

Sergeant Johnson raised his beam rifle. "What the hell _is _that thing?"

"A Heretic," The Arbiter answered. "Their people are outcasts from the Covenant. They believed that the Prophets were deceiving the Covenant."

"And turns out that they were right after all," Johnson finished.

"Yes..." 'Nolomee said gravely. "They were wise to doubt the Prophets."

"Heretic, why are you on the sacred ring?" the Arbiter questioned.

The Heretic wheezed, clutching its chest. "We sought to prevent Tartarus from activating the ring. But there were too many Brutes... they overran our camp." It paused, catching its breath. "We fled and stumbled upon... this place. We hid... That's when they attacked."

"Who?" Johnson asked anxiously.

The Heretic pointed to a darkened corner. A Heretic corpse lay in a corner, its insides ripped apart.

"The Flood..." 'Nolomee whispered.

"Everyone is dead..." the Heretic managed, coughing blood out from its mouth. "Those who were not killed were infested. The parasite will fall... it will pay for its actions." The Elite's hand fell from its side.

The group stood silent, coming to the realization that they would have to fight the Flood once more. They entered through the door into the Archive's information center. Two columns of light slowly rotated a shaft, covered in strange markings. A panel stood at the center of the object.

The Arbiter slowly approached the control panel and randomly pressed a button. Nothing happened. 'Nolomee also advanced towards the panel with no response.

The Monitor chuckled.

"Shut up you Christmas ornament and tell us how the Archive works," Johnson barked. "We don't have time for this."

Johnson approached the control panel and suddenly it lit up. The two columns of light rotated faster and faster until an image formed between them, a starmap.

"What the-" Johnson said surprised. "How did that happen?"

"Why would you question that?" the Monitor asked.

Johnson paid no attention to the Monitor's past statement. His eyes lay fixed on the map.

"Wait a minute, this can't be right," Johnson said, taken aback. "This coordinates on this chart say that the Ark is in the Sol System, on Earth."

"That is correct," Guilty Spark answered.

"Earth?" Keyes asked, astonished. "That is why the Covenant are fighting this war. The Ark is on Earth, and they are waging a holy war to claim it."

"A war all fought in vain," The Arbiter said sadly, images of his dead brethren still in his mind.

**0249 hours, March 30, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar), UNSC Cruiser, high-orbit Earth.**

Captain Lawrence Spaulding stood surveying the battle for Earth. A Covenant cruiser exploded in the distance, a MAC round torn through the side. Another was skewered through the middle, floating dead in space. Despite the tactical advantages of the MAC guns, the Covenant would soon overrun Earth.

Spaulding's ship, the _Abaton_, was formidable, sporting Archer missile pods and two MAC guns as armament. If need be, it could also arm one of its Shiva-class nuclear warheads.

"Arm Archer pods F through H," Captain Lawrence ordered. "Give me a firing solution!"

"Aye sir," Lieutenant Holt, the ship's firing officer answered.

"Fire when they charge their plasma torpedoes." Captain Spaulding commanded. The Covenant Destroyer charged one of its plasma outlets, glistening a bright red. The surrounding shields faded to allow the plasma strike through.

"Fire!"

Streaks of missiles crisscrossed across space, impacting the Covenant ship along its weakened shields. The Covenant raised their shields to negate the attack, but many Archer missiles got through when the cruiser's shields were down. The missiles exploded inside the shielding, and bright blasts flickered inside the shields, disabling them.

"Good work Lieutenant," said Captain Spaulding patting the young officer on the back. "Arm the MAC."

With the cruiser's shield down, it was a sitting duck. The MAC fired a high-powered tungsten round into the Covenant warship, ripping through its bridge and engines. With its motor systems disabled, the warship was effectively dead in space.

A blast reverberated the entire ship, and Captain Spaulding struggled to regain his balance.

"Damage assessment!" he shouted.

"Decks D through G depressurized. Fusion reactor took a hit! Our engines are running at sixty-six percent."

Spaulding heard thumps overhead, the sound of explosive decompressions. He turned to face the new threat. Another Covenant cruiser appeared on the sensors, its plasma cannons firing.

"Evasive action!" Captain Spaulding cried.

The plasma torpedoes maneuvered through space, steered by Covenant weapons technology. The _Abaton _banked into a steep turn. Two of the plasma torpedoes narrowly missed the _Abaton_, skimming by the ship's starboard side. The third directly impacted the warship, skewing it through the side.

"Decks H and I are now depressurized. Structural integrity is-" the damage assessment report was followed by an eerie silence.

"Where are our engines at?" Spaulding asked.

"Fifty percent." Holt answered.

"Give me fifty-five. Push the engines as far as they can go. Arm the Shiva warhead." Captain Spaulding hoped it would not come to this, but he thought of the old saying, _desperate times called for desperate measures._

"Aye aye," was the response throughout the bridge.

"Plot a course to coordinates zero, five, two." The Captain ordered.

"Sir? That's a collision course," the Lieutenant answered.

"I am well aware of that Lieutenant," Spaulding spoke nervously, trying to at least _appear _in control for the sake of his grew. He was about to attempt one of the most daring maneuvers in the history of space warfare; the Keyes Loop.

The Captain felt his pulse spike and adrenalin fill through his body.

"Sir, I'm detecting high levels of radiation from the cruiser's plasma systems," a junior officer shouted. The Covenant were preparing to fire again.

Officers glanced at him nervously, doubting the Captain's orders. Spaulding looked for inspiration from Captain Jacob Keyes, the tactician who had invented the maneuver. The plasma weapons of the Covenant glowed bright red, preparing to fire

"Sir... course correction?" Holt asked.

"No, stay on course," the Captain answered.

The plasma torpedoes fired, bright streaks of plasma flashing across the air.

"Push the engine to seventy percent!" Spaulding yelled. There were only two outcomes; it would either work or it wouldn't.

"Evasive action sir?"

"No. Stay on course!" Captain Spaulding answered, his adrenaline pumping.

A plasma torpedo ripped through the ship's hull, then another.

"Sir, the structural integrity is in danger! The hull is about to collapse," Holt shouted.

Spaulding looked around at his crew. Some handled the tension better than others. Some were praying, others remaining calm under the pressure.

"Prepare to fire the warhead," the Captain said, trying to remain calm. "The firing coordinates are five, five, seven."

"Sir? Those firing coordinates are behind us," Holt said, closing his eyes.

"Didn't you learn in a military academy not to doubt your commanding officers?" Spaulding asked.

"Aye, sir." Holt responded, breathing heavily.

The Covenant cruiser was enormous; nearly three times the size of the _Abaton._ The captain briefly hesitated, wondering if the Keyes Loop was even possible. Spaulding chastised himself for doubting such a brilliant commander such as Captain Keyes.

"Fire!" the Captain shouted.

The Shiva warhead was launched from the back of the ship, still traveling forward due to the ship's high speed and momentum. The _Abaton _was almost upon the Covenant cruiser now, trailing fire and debris.

"Evasive action!" Captain Spaulding finally screamed. The _Abaton _banked into a steep upward spiral. Behind it, the warhead continued on its course, impacting the Covenant cruiser. A huge explosion followed, throwing the _Abaton _off course. Spaulding looked back onto the wreckage. A kilometer-sized hole was torn in the Covenant cruiser's side, both ends of the cruiser falling into the Earth's atmosphere.

Cheers erupted throughout the ship's bridge. Humanity had won this battle. But outside the ship a war was waging, a war that had hardly begun.


End file.
